Adam Zivo: Zelenskyy jeopardized Ukraine by ousting brilliant military reformer
- Ukrainian President Zelenskyy made a critical error by dismissing popular and effective Defence Minister Mykhailo Fedorov, sparking mass protests and shaking public trust in his leadership.
- Fedorov, a tech-savvy reformer, implemented data-driven changes in military procurement and digital governance, significantly improving efficiency, reducing corruption, and boosting Ukraine’s use of advanced drone technology in the war effort.
- Fedorov clashed with the old-guard military leadership, particularly Commander-in-Chief Oleksandr Syrskyi, whose Soviet-style approach and resistance to reforms hindered progress; Zelenskyy initially sided with Syrskyi but reversed course following public backlash.
- Following protests and declining public trust, Zelenskyy dismissed Syrskyi, is negotiating to reinstate Fedorov—who insists on full authority as defence minister to continue combating corruption and reforming the military system.
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy made a grave mistake last week when he dismissed the country’s popular defence minister, Mykhailo Fedorov, in an apparent effort to appease the military’s corrupt and ineffective old guard. Although mass protests quickly forced Zelenskyy to backtrack on firing the minister — and even spurred belated reforms — the incident has justifiably shaken public faith in his leadership.
Fedorov is widely regarded — both domestically and internationally — as one of the most effective members of Zelenskyy’s government. Originally appointed as minister of digital transformation in 2019, the 35-year-old tech prodigy is credited for Ukraine’s unlikely rise as a global leader in digital governance and aggressive adoption of wartime drone technology.
Although Fedorov has never served in the army, Zelenskyy appointed him as defence minister in January during a particularly difficult time. Incessant missile strikes had left Kyiv without electricity amid a bitter winter, and Russia’s anticipated springtime offensive threatened to disrupt the frontlines. A change in direction was needed.
The young minister was unsettled by the inefficiency, corruption and Soviet-style thinking he witnessed within Ukraine’s military — so he immediately implemented data-driven reforms, especially with respect to procurement, that arguably shifted the war in Kyiv’s favour.
Before his arrival, the defence ministry’s bureaucrats relied on their own subjective assessments when ordering military equipment, but they were often ignorant of frontline needs and the technical performance of the systems (e.g. drones) they purchased. Soldiers thus found themselves with suboptimal or irrelevant gear that was often distributed on the basis of loyalty to higher ups, not battle performance.
Worse yet, this highly centralized system often awarded sole-sourced contracts to well-connected suppliers, some of whom obviously inflated their prices. Several ministerial department heads had also effectively been appointed by defence companies, blurring the lines between industry and government.
Fedorov immediately ordered an audit of the defence ministry, allegedly revealing approximately $6.6 billion in overspending, and subjected officials to polygraph tests, dismissing those who failed or refused. He then mandated that the ministry procure weapons based on hard data (e.g. technical specifications and battlefield testing); expanded the use of open tenders; and, one-by-one, removed personnel who maintained questionable private sector ties.
At Fedorov’s direction, the military scaled up use of Ukraine’s “Brave1” digital marketplace, where soldiers use video-verified battlefield successes to earn “e-points” that can be exchanged for more weapons and equipment. He had originally launched the marketplace in late 2024, as digital transformation minister, and had two years of data showing that gamifying war improves performance and efficiency.
The use of open tenders has already produced substantial savings, reportedly reducing the price of artillery by 16 per cent (more than $100 million) in a recent contract, for example, and lowering the cost of new mid-range drones by 20-30 per cent. Expanded use of the Brave1 system, meanwhile, has helped ensure that soldiers obtain what they actually need, in accordance to their battlefield merits, by bypassing bureaucratic gatekeepers.
Beyond procurement, Fedorov has consistently argued that, in a war of attrition against a much larger enemy, Ukraine can only survive through asymmetrical warfare where advanced technology — such as drones and robotics — compensates for Russia’s sheer manpower advantages.
In that spirit, Fedorov convinced Elon Musk to block Russia’s access to Starlink by switching off all terminals operating in Ukraine except those on a Kyiv-approved “white list.” The change, which came into effect in February, cut off Russian forces’ access to unjammable satellite internet, causing chaos and reducing attacks.
The defence minister invested heavily into mid-range drones, partially by redirecting funds originally earmarked for year-end salaries. Within the first four months of this year, Kyiv purchased three times as many of these drones as it had throughout the entire year before, allowing the Ukrainian military to systematically destroy Russia’s logistical infrastructure and partially isolate occupied Crimea.
Fedorov’s strategies — and occasional gambles — proved highly successful. Moscow’s already-slow advancements in Ukraine have stalled since the spring, largely because the ratio of Russian to Ukrainian casualties has shifted dramatically in Kyiv’s favour – from 2:1 to 8:1. His doctrine has been to defend Ukraine by maintaining a deadly “drone wall” on the frontlines, and to use mid-range and deep strikes to cripple Russia’s military and economy, forcing an end to the war.
Having stabilized the front, Fedorov moved onwards to fixing manpower shortages.
Ukraine has struggled to adequately train, equip and compensate its soldiers, and has often left them languishing on the front indefinitely, with no clear end to their service. As such, recruitment has been anemic and desertions are now at crisis levels, forcing conscription officers to fill quotas using draconian practices that fuel social unrest.
Fedorov sought to resolve this issue last month by dramatically increasing salaries, instituting fixed-term contracts and granting a 100-day amnesty period for deserters who wish to return to service. Yet these reforms, along with all of Fedorov’s other good work, were derailed when Zelenskyy, as part of a broader cabinet reshuffle, dismissed him as defence minister last week.
The original pretext had been Fedorov’s failure to fix military recruitment, but few Ukrainians believed this. Thousands of demonstrators took to the streets in the largest county-wide protests since the beginning of the war — which are still ongoing — demanding the young minister’s reinstatement. It was, and remains, a deeply symbolic issue for them, epitomizing the fight between Ukraine’s future and past.
Initial media reports suggested that Fedorov had been removed because he had not only threatened entrenched interests, but had clashed with Ukraine’s older, Soviet-style military leaders — especially the controversial (now former) commander-in-chief, Oleksandr Syrskyi.
Syrskyi was one of the country’s top generals when Russia launched its full-scale invasion, and was lauded for overseeing the defence of Kyiv and the liberation of Ukraine’s Kharkiv region. Yet, after the first winter of war, disillusionment with his old-school leadership grew. He seemed too willing to sacrifice Ukrainian lives to defend positions until the last possible moment, recklessly forgoing strategic retreats, earning him the nickname “the Butcher.”
Discontent bubbled after he was appointed commander-in-chief in early 2024. Critics accused him of maintaining a “Soviet-style culture” that devalued human life and incentivized false reports up the command chain. Some military leaders believed that he was a micromanager who lacked a strategic vision for the war — but few openly criticized him.
After Fedorov was dismissed last week, he publicly confirmed that he had been removed for butting heads with Syrskyi, and that the commander-in-chief, favouring traditional attritional warfare, had obstructed tech-oriented reforms. In a press conference, Fedorov argued that Syrski had created a culture of “constant dishonesty” where soldiers are haphazardly organized and little analysis is done of why losses occur.
Zelenskyy subsequently confirmed that he had removed Fedorov due to the untenable conflict — between the two men, he had made his choice. It soon became clear this was a miscalculation: the protesters remained in the streets, and a Ukrainian poll showed public trust in Fedorov soaring from 35 to 65 per cent, slingshotting over the president.
So, Zelenskyy blinked. Acknowledging public outrage, he dismissed Syrskyi this week, appointed a well-respected replacement and is now in talks to reinstate Fedorov in some undisclosed capacity. Yet, Fedorov stated on Thursday that he will not accept any position except defence minister, lest he lack the “real authority” to “combat corruption in procurement” and “root out the culture of lies and irresponsibility within the system.”
The president may have initially sided with the Sovietized and corrupt old guard, but it seems that Ukraine’s tempestuous democratic spirit is prevailing.
National Post